


the one where Bucky cock-blocks Tony

by pure1magination



Series: Stony drabbles [6]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Banter, Bucky is a cat, Cockblocking, Cute, Domestic Fluff, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-03-13
Packaged: 2018-10-04 07:17:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10271216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pure1magination/pseuds/pure1magination
Summary: aka, Bucky-cat part 2(continuation of the one where Bucky is a cat)





	

The magnificent, literally perfect form of Steve Rogers was draped over the chaise lounge in the corner of the living room. His white ‘Proud US Veteran’ t-shirt hugged his pecs so hard his nipples were visible through the material, and in contrast, his R2-D2 and C-3PO patterned pajama pants hung comfortably on his frame, flaring loosely out at the ankle to reveal Darth Vader socks. 

Tony didn’t really understand Steve’s fascination with Darth Vader. At first he’d hated Darth Vader, pointing out that he was basically Space Hitler. But ever since Return of the Jedi, he’d softened on Darth Vader. Something about forgiveness. Everyone deserving a second chance. That kind of crap. Tony admittedly hadn’t really been listening at that point; he’d kind of gotten distracted by the way Steve’s mouth was moving. That man had an absurdly pretty mouth.

Anyway. Steve was draped attractively across the couch, reading an actual  _ book, _ because apparently he couldn’t grasp the concept of Kindle, and curled there against his thigh was the devil-cat. The devil-cat was either asleep, or very relaxed- the way he only ever was around Steve- and Steve’s hand was absently stroking the devil-cat’s fur as he read.

_ “The Hunger Games?”  _ Tony asked, startling him. “Isn’t that kind of dystopian for you? I thought you only read books with  _ happy  _ endings.”

“Pop culture references,” Steve said by answer, marking his place (with an actual bookmark, how cute) and setting the book aside. “What do you want, Tony?”

Tony’s hand flew to his chest. “So rude! And after I patched up Binky’s paw and everything.”

Said devil-cat stretched just then, both furry and mechanical front legs out in front of him, claws flexing in one paw, gears whirring in the other. The cat yawned, showing off his needle teeth.

Steve scooped up the devil-cat and held him protectively in his lap. “The leg is amazing, Tony. He’s been adjusting to it with almost no problem at all.”

“I know it’s amazing. I designed it. But if you could just hold Binky still for a second, I’d just like to check and make a few fine-motor adjustments.”

“Sure.” Steve turned the cat like it was no big deal. The devil-cat was actually  _ purring.  _

“I don’t know  _ how  _ you do that,” Tony murmured, bending closer with a wrench. The second he got within touching distance, the cat hissed. 

Tony drew back, hands up.

“Sorry about that,” Steve apologized. He crooned and baby-talked the devil-cat until he calmed down, but the cat was still on-guard. The cat eyed Tony suspiciously.

Tony cautiously approached once more. He almost got within touching distance again before the cat vaulted up on all fours, claws out, hissed at him, and ran away.

Steve winced and clutched at the spots the cat had torn in his pajama pants.

“Get back here, you little fucker!” Tony called, chasing after the cat, a wrench brandished above his head. “Don’t make me sedate you!”

“He’s fine, Tony.” Steve glanced at the blood on his fingertips.

Tony was infuriated on at least three levels. “I _ will  _ catch that fucker.”

Steve licked the blood off his fingertips. 

Tony watched the fingers get sucked into Steve’s perfect mouth and blanked out for a second, still angry, but momentarily unsure why. Steve caught him looking. What tumbled out of Tony’s mouth was, “You need a band-aid?”

“I’m fine,” Steve said.

“Are you though?” Tony put the wrench back in his pocket. “Because I know Peggy’s been sick, and I know that hasn’t been easy on you.”

Steve sighed. “She’s ninety-seven, Tony. Of course she’s not in perfect health.”

“Yeah, okay, but so are you, and you’re practically a paragon of physical human perfection.”

Steve’s mouth did a funny thing. “She didn’t get the serum, Tony.”

“No. But if you ask me, she should have.”

Steve made a face and leaned back. His shirt stretched very distractingly. “Still pissed off that your old man chose me?”

Tony held up a finger. “It was never because he chose you. It was because he wouldn’t shut  _ up  _ about you.”

Steve shrugged a shoulder and brought his arms up behind his head. “You aren’t exactly quiet, yourself.”

Tony’s mouth dropped open. “Steven Grant Rogers! You wound me!”

“And  _ your _ incessant talking hurts my eardrums. So I think that makes us about even.”

“You love my voice and you know it.”

Steve made a face, somewhere between a sarcastic wince and a smile. “You talk so much, I can hear you rambling in my  _ sleep.” _

“Aw. You dream about me?” Tony grinned.

“I wouldn’t call them ‘dreams’,” Rogers rebuffed.

“You’re right.” Tony tossed his head. “‘Dreams’ isn’t strong enough a word.”

“More like ‘nightmares.’”

Tony ignored that comment and sat beside him on the couch. “So what happens in these ‘dreams’?” 

Steve shifted his position to accommodate Tony. “Well… mostly evil robot invasions, artificial intelligence gone too far, robots taking over the world. Or you trying to tell people factoids you read in National Geographic.”

Tony fake-sighed. “The evil robot was  _ one time,  _ Cap. Can’t you let that go?”

Steve raised his eyebrows. “He tried to destroy an entire  _ city,  _ Tony.”

“Raised it off the ground. That’s not the same as destroying.”

Steve’s eyebrows rose higher. “He wanted to destroy humanity.”

Tony waved his hand. “It was a glitch.”

“And you’ve done… what, exactly, to stop that from ever happening again?”

“Abandoned the project.”

“Yeah, and how many artificially intelligent beings do you have around the house?”

“...Two.”

Steve gave him a ‘checkmate’ look.

“But they’re totally harmless! Completely benevolent. 100 percent on our side.”

Steve’s eyebrows stayed up.

“What! They are.”

Steve made a skeptical face.

Tony rolled his eyes. “Ugh, whatever. You’ll thank me when I save the world again someday. -Oh wait. I’ve done that three times this week.”

“With help.”

“I could do it by myself if I wanted to!”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. That is  _ very  _ so.  _ So  _ so, in fact, that I will go on the next Avengers mission, completely solo,  _ just _ to prove how wrong you are.” Tony poked Steve’s chest to emphasize his point.

Their eyes locked.

Tony’s finger stayed there.

“...And  _ we,” _ Steve said, leaning closer for some reason, “will be waiting nearby when it all goes to shit.”

“So little faith in me, Rogers!”

“Too little faith in your team, Stark.” And  _ why  _ was Steve’s voice pitched so low? 

Tony found himself leaning closer. “I have  _ plenty  _ of faith in us. I just happen to know that I can handle anything I put my mind to.”

“Is that so?” Steve asked,  _ definitely  _ way closer than he was before.

“That is  _ very  _ so.” Tony could list half a dozen things he’d like to handle  _ right now. _

Steve’s lips parted. His lashes swept low across his cheek. He leaned forward, gaze fixed on Tony’s mouth.

Tony’s heart skipped a beat. His eyes flew as wide open as they could possibly be. He forgot how to breathe properly. He wanted to ask approximately a thousand questions. Their noses were almost touching.

And then there were eight claws suddenly buried in his leg.

Tony jumped up and yowled.

The devil-cat clung to his leg.

He was dimly aware of Steve spluttering apologies and saying “Bucky no!” but he couldn’t hear much over his own screaming and “Get it off me! Get it  _ off  _ me!” as he hopped around on one leg.

Steve recovered the demon-cat and held it to his chest, soothing it. He shot Tony an apologetic look. “Sorry about that. Sometimes he likes to do sneak-attacks.”

“Sneak attacks?! That cat is bent on  _ revenge,  _ I tell you!”

“He’s not bent on revenge! He was just trying to play!  _ Weren’t  _ you, Bucky?”

The devil-cat meowed at Steve.

“He tried to  _ kill  _ me!” Tony protested.

“Tony, he’s just a  _ cat.” _

“That cat is evil, and he hates me!”

Steve shot Tony a disappointed look. “He doesn’t hate you. He’s just… not used to you yet.”

“Oh sure! Keep making excuses for your demon-spawn! I see how it is. Defend the ‘defenseless animal’ that just tried to skin my leg! -No, no, it’s fine! Totally fine. I see where your loyalty lies.” Tony cradled his injured leg.

Steve sighed and set down the cat. “Tony…” He reached out for Tony.

Tony flinched away petulantly. 

Steve pet the cat before it ran away again. He sat down beside Tony on the couch, close enough for their knees to knock briefly. “I’m very grateful that you helped me adopt Bucky. He’s… he’s been good for me. It’s… nice, to have someone around who reminds me of the past.”

Tony shrugged and pouted in the opposite direction.

Steve rested a large, warm hand on Tony’s shoulder. “It means a lot to me.”

Tony perked up at that tone. He turned to check Steve’s face. It was just as warm and as close as it sounded.

Steve smiled, only half-sad. “Thank you.”

“You really wanna make it up to me?” Tony said. “Train that thing so he doesn’t try to maim or torture me every time I get near him.”

Steve’s smile spread. “It’s a deal.” He was leaning closer again.

Tony’s eyes darted over his face. “Tell me the demon-cat isn’t about to pounce on me again.”

Steve glanced briefly around the room. “I don’t see him.” He leaned closer.

“Just because you don’t see him doesn’t mean he isn’t there.” Tony’s heart was racing. “He could be hiding just behind something, trying to ambush me.”

“You’d hear the whirr of his mechanical arm,” Steve said, nearly brushing noses.

“Yeah.” Tony gulped. “I gotta fix that.”

“Am I not supposed to hear it?” Their noses touched.

“No.” Tony’s voice wobbled. “It’s supposed to be silent.”

“Oh.” Steve tilted his head just the slightest bit. Their lips brushed. Tony’s mouth opened with a gasp. Steve captured Tony’s lower lip and pulled it into his mouth with just the right amount of suction. Tony’s world whited out for a second. He positively melted, eyes rolling shut, hands coming up to grab Steve’s stupidly tight shirt and hold him there, but he couldn’t get a grip on the material. Steve pressed closer, shifted their positions on the couch, cradled Tony’s face with one hand, and went in for tongue.

Something crashed to the ground and shattered in the next room, followed by the sound of three scampering feet and one metal one scraping across the ground as the culprit dashed away from the scene of the crime.

Steve broke away and frowned in the direction of the crash. “That sounded big.” He shifted. “I wonder what he broke.”

Tony closed his eyes and pressed his fingers to his forehead. “I am going to  _ kill  _ that cat.”


End file.
